


House Arrest, AKA Recovery

by Dramaticdragon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, M/M, Minor Angst, minor injury, wrote this in a frenzy with absolutely zero proofreading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramaticdragon/pseuds/Dramaticdragon
Summary: Viktor has an injured knee and it sentenced to the horrible fate of laying in bed until he recovers. His mind starts to wander with all of his restless energy, and it doesn't go all the places he'd like.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	House Arrest, AKA Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> No graphic desc of injury, dw. As someone who had a sports injury that took me OUT, i know this LIFE.
> 
> Also shoutout to arminita-muscaria on tumblr for being the coolest human alive

Viktor sighed for the tenth time this hour, trying to roll onto his side, but his very injured knee deciding against that for him. It was only the second day of house arrest- “Time to heal”, as others called it. Torture, more like. It wasn’t even the injury that really bothered him so much, despite it being quite uncomfortable. It was the torturous boredom and restlessness. He could only really move his upper body, using his lower half only when he had to go to the kitchen or bathroom, to keep his knee as stable as possible. Viktor was not a big television media person, either. Sure, he enjoyed the odd movie night, and it wasn’t unheard of for him to get sucked into a really good soap opera. But those always came after a tiring day of practice, as a reward. He was _not_ tired now. He had far too much energy than he knew what to do with. And since his _body_ couldn’t use it up, his mind seemed to pick up the extra slack. He hadn’t had this many rushing, negative thoughts since before he even met Yuuri. Perhaps only in the gap between the banquet and showing up as his coach. But they were, as if they never left. Was this how Yuuri lived? Always overtaken with this type of negative thinking? Viktor truly hoped not…

Speaking of Yuuri, Viktor wondered how his practice was going. Viktor trusted Yakov with no less than his own life, but he was still curious. A small- yet growing- part of his mind worried Yuuri might grow a little too fond of Yakov’s methods. Surely Yuuri wouldn’t _leave_ him as coach, but if he started seeking out Yakov’s help more and more, it might start to feel like it. It would make sense, though, since Yakov is actually trained to be a coach, whereas Viktor just uses his own experiences skating as his “training”. _Doing_ and _coaching_ are different things. It’s not like Viktor didn’t know that all to begin with, but it was becoming even more known as he sat in bed staring at the ceiling fan.

So he looked around his room, instead. Thankfully, there were better things to look at now. Signs of life, not just life, but a life _lived_. Previously, Viktor’s expensive apartment looked like it was the one advertised in photos, not one people lived in. It was like the model apartment people toured in. But no, it was actually where Viktor lived. Now, however, there was truly signs of life. A photo-booth print-out taped to the wall above their bed stand, an extra pair of glasses in case Yuuri needed to use the restroom in the middle of the night. A single sock was sticking out of one of the drawers, waiting for its partner to return from the ‘Sock Dungeon’ in the drier. Even the glass case of medals seemed more lively now that it had Yuuri’s silver. Yuuri brought so much light to Viktor’s life, and half of the time he didn’t even know it. Viktor remembers clearly, when Yuuri was worried that he was taking up too much “wall space” when he asked to hang up a family photo his mom had sent him, as if Viktor wanted to keep his walls plain, boring, dull.

Viktor feared what might become of him if Yuuri ever took down that photo, or the taped one in their room, or his socks. Viktor, even in his weaker moments, knew Yuuri loved him dearly, and he would never take that for granted and assume the worst of Yuuri. There were, however, insecurities of what he himself brought to the table. At first, surely Yuuri thought Viktor was this god among men, his childhood idol, so truthfully, Viktor didn’t have to do too much to be “just right” for Yuuri. Not that he wanted to do nothing anyway; his one-way flight to Japan speaks well enough for that. But these days, as they started to get used to living together and being married, Viktor worried that perhaps he truly isn’t doing enough.

He should clean more. He wasn’t a _bad_ cook, per say, but he never experimented much. Maybe he should get those grocery-delivery subscriptions, to learn how to cook more things. When was the last time he gave Yuuri a really meaningful compliment, one that wasn’t just a habitual “hello, handsome”? In all his panic, Viktor wasn’t sure. Suddenly, everything before his injury started to become a big blur. It was like some hastily made time line. “Pre-Yuuri”, then “Yuuri”, then “Now”. The “Yuuri” section of the timeline always looked so shiny, golden, and colorful. But in the gray lenses of “Now”… was there always this many smudges? When Yuuri teased Viktor about making a mess when he did the dishes, Yuuri didn’t _really_ mean that, right? Or when he said Viktor had funny taste in movies, that was just because Yuuri hadn’t seen many Russian films, right? “Funny” as in new and interesting, not funny as in bad, yeah? Maybe Viktor should have paid closer attention to body language…

In his sudden mental panic, Viktor somehow managed to forget about his injury and tried to jump out of bed to start “apology cleaning”, but was quickly reminded as to _why_ he had all the restless energy to panic over anyway.

“Ow, ow owww!” He whined, pulling his leg back on the firm pillow it was supposed to be laying on. He pouted once it was back in place- this sucks!

He huffed and plopped his head onto the pillow, staring back once again at old faithful- the ceiling fan.

It hardly even took until the surge of pain dulled for Viktor’s mind to go back to work.

All of those problems really have one stem, don’t they. Viktor is just too… too _much_. It’s hard to describe. Perhaps after shoving so much of himself down for so long, finally being around someone he felt safe to “let it all out” around gave him a little too much security, and he let out _too much_. If Yuuri laughed at his dog pun, surely he’d laugh at the next six. Or if he liked a hug, surely he’d just love a super tight squeeze and being picked up and swung around in a circle. And one can never give “too many” compliments, after all!

… Perhaps this should have been more obvious, much sooner.

After all, Yuuri was a much more reserved, quiet type. He probably thought Viktor was always “too much”, and was relieved to have a break while Viktor recovered.

Viktor groaned loudly, grabbing another pillow and shoving it over his face.

_No!_

He can’t think of Yuuri like that! His own insecurities can do whatever they so please, but he promised himself not to put words into Yuuri’s mouth.

He took a long, deep breath in, and an even slower one out.

Let’s try all of this again.

Viktor looked around the room once more. He saw Yuuri’s game system by the television. He remembered when Yuuri taught him how to play his favorite game, and how happy that made Yuuri, even when Viktor was convinced he was holding the controller the wrong way. Yuuri was happy to share that part of himself with Viktor.

He looked over to the door to the en-suite bathroom, and thought of the specialty brand bathroom cleaner that was in there- after all, who knows better cleaners than someone who was raised in a public hot springs bathhouse? Yuuri even knew the manufacturer for the mirror cleaner they had. That was another piece of himself he shared with Viktor.

Viktor turned his head the other way, to look at the brown bookshelf by the bed. Yuuri used to be an avid reader in college, apparently, and had brought many of his favorites to fill up Viktor’s shelves. Most of what Viktor had was sports magazines anyway, so it’s not like he didn’t have much space to give Yuuri. There was even one homemade scrapbook Yuuri’s mom had put together of the two of them. Nothing major or groundbreaking in terms of design (It had pictures of Yuuri in his fan years, printed screenshots of Viktor’s Instagram through Japan, and ended at their wedding), but it was probably the most meaningful gift Viktor had ever received. That was a huge part of himself, and his family, that Yuuri shared with Viktor. Ah, and how cute he was when he tried to skip the pages with his fan-days pictures!

Viktor smiled, possibly for the first time today.

Perhaps he was a bit much at times, but sometimes, so was Yuuri. Yuuri was “much” when it came to his worries- something Viktor was actively trying to be better at handling. He was “much” when it came to how embarrassed he was about his intense fandom to Viktor- while contradicting himself and taking great pride in his limited addition fan merchandise. Yuuri was “much” when he watched recordings of Phicit’s skate performances when they performed at different times; he often shouted and hollered as if he were in the open stadium stands, and not on the couch in Viktor’s apartment.

It’s true, maybe Viktor _could_ truly clean more, but Yuuri had told him to not feel bad if Yuuri did more chores _. “You’re balancing performing and coaching at the same time, you need to relax at some point!”_ Yuuri had argued one day. And Viktor often handled breakfast for the two of them, since he was the more morning person of the two. He took great pride in his home brewed, protein-rich smoothies. He tried many flavors, originally, but mostly just makes strawberry, since that’s Yuuri’s favorite.

And sure, he’s probably a _little_ helpless right now, since all he can manage is a walk to the fridge and back, but far be it from Viktor to not send his husband the best possible vibes from the bed, all the way to the practice rink! Surely he can feel his psychic support! If he can’t, Viktor at least has when he gets home to _physically_ support him.

_Click, click._

Oh, speaking of his amazing husband being home!

Viktor waited until he heard the door close all the way, before loudly hollering-

“Yuuri!!! Welcome home!”

He heard footsteps quickly rush over to the room.

“I’m home!” Yuuri greeted, clearly trying to ward off an excited poodle to get to Viktor, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m very happy to see you!” Viktor said, knowing his smile probably took up most of his face. It was rewarded by an equal happy smile from Yuuri.

“Aw!” Yuuri beamed, “Well I’m happy to see you too! I’m happy to see you happy! Are you in any pain?”

“At the moment, nothing extraordinary.” Viktor answered truthfully, “Only when I try to move it around any.” 

“Want me to get you something from the kitchen?” Yuuri- ever the saint- offered.

“No, I actually refilled by water bottle only about thirty minutes ago, and I’m not very hungry right now, but thank you!” Viktor said, using his head to motion to the full water bottle on the bed side table.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Yuuri said as he started to take off his training gear, “But I did grab you some stuff on the way home, if you’re interested.”

“Oh, I am, I am!” Viktor said, feeling like a child on their birthday.

Yuuri laughed and reached over to his duffle bag. He pulled out a small shopping bag and sat with it next to Viktor.

“So first, I got you a banana,” Yuuri chuckled as he handed it to Viktor, “But don’t worry, that’s not the actual thing.”

As if Viktor wasn’t plenty excited to eat his special banana, but alright.

Yuuri pulled out a small hardcover book from the bag next.

“I know being stuck in bed for a while is, like, the _worst_ thing in the world, especially if you have nothing to occupy your mind. So I got you this.”

Viktor took the book to examine it, as Yuuri kept talking.

“You don’t have to actually read it if you don’t want, I noticed it was in a 30% off section and I thought you might be interested, since when we were in Hasetsu you seemed interested in this stuff, but I don’t know if it’s enough to actually read a whole book about…”

_A Consise History of Ninjas: Histories Coolest and Quietest Killers_

Viktor felt like all the colors in the world weren’t enough to illustrate how much joy Yuuri brought into his life. Perhaps he would have never purchased the book on his own, but his sweet, sweet Yuuri knew his mind would be racing (which it was), and that he liked ninjas (which he did), and wanted something to do in bed (which he does). He went out of his way to do this for Viktor, and had the audacity to be unsure if Viktor would like it.

Viktor, as quickly as his tender body would allow, rushed to wrap his arms around Yuuri and squeeeeeze him closely.

“You’re the best husband in the _world_!” Viktor shouted, probably a bit too closely to Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri just laughed it off, and hugged him right back.

“No, that’s you, silly!” Yuuri said.

Viktor just huffed loudly and dramatically. They’ve had this discussion before, and Yuuri’s only fatal flaw seemed to be disagreeing that he was not, in fact, the world’s greatest husband. Viktor would have to forgive him once more.

After all, it was the least he could do, after all the joy Yuuri brings to his life. He wouldn’t want an injured knee with anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> when i started writing this i was like "yeah man yuuri gonna come home and save the day!" then as I was writing it i was like "actually no we love healthy mental awareness and the ability to face one's own fears and tell them "you're wrong" and then being proven right by your loved one"
> 
> anyway knee injuries suck.


End file.
